Hate is Safer than Love
by puffy clouds
Summary: Haruno Sakura—normal girl. Uchiha Sasuke—overly handsome, jerk of an actor. When they accidientally get married one night, they must fake it until divorce papers arrive. But what happens when one doesn't want to fake it anymore? "I LOVE YOU." — SASUSAKU.


**Title:** Hate is Safer than Love

**Pairing:** SASUSAKU.

**Warnings:** Mid language, AU and slow updates.

**A/N:** …I know what you're thinking: _What the hell are you doing, making another story when there's one_

_you've neglected to update for the last two years!?_ -chuckles nervously- Well… yeah, I kinda lost interest

in that one. But! I've left it up, because there's a chance I might go back to it. ;D Safety precautions.

On on another note—this story. Well, the idea kind of came from a friend. A long, _long_ time ago, a friend

of mind made a story with this plot. Unfortunately, she doesn't write anymore. So she gave me her old

documents (-_cough_- After I begged -_cough_-) so I could use them as a reference to create my own fic. 8D

So I apologize if it sounds familiar to anybody… Though I'm sure it's been used before…

Anyway! Look at this—I'm wasting your time. Well! Let's get started. :P

**Disclaimer:** _Nope, I don't own Naruto. Sorry to disappoint!_

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**HATE IS SAFER THAN LOVE  
**_Part 1: What a pleasant surprise._

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**Haruno**

_Partying. I remember… hardcore partying. And a lot of shots._

I could barely make sense of my own thoughts when I awoke that next morning. My body was aching and it was sore in places I didn't even know I had. There was a constant thumping within my head—it was as if someone was standing above me, dropping invisible bricks. I _knew_ I shouldn't have let Naruto drag me to that stupid club. Stupid me, making another mistake. I cringed as I helped myself sit up, slowly. As I run my palm over the sheets, I paused, momentarily sidetracked from my hangover.

Something was off.

Instead of feeling the warm, rough of my cotton blanket, I felt something cool and undeniably smooth.

I looked around and found I was in a hotel room. A rather luxurious one, at that. I looked around frantically, panic washing over me. As I lifted the sheets, I let out a small yelp as I realized that I wasn't clothed. I sat there, stark naked and I could see my red shirt laying lifelessly on the other side of the room. What _happened_ last night? It was all fuzzy. But there was a man—a dark haired man. My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes became as wide as dinner plates.

I looked to my left—the supposedly empty side of the bed.

My breath hitched, and I was afraid to check.

Slowly, reluctantly, I turned.

Jade met obsidian.

Green met black.

Horror met confusion.

What the hell!?

"OH MY GOD!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs, utter mortification crossing my face. A million questions, a million thoughts ran through my head at that single moment. But all I could concentrate on was the dark haired man that was in front of me—well, not anymore, actually. He fell off the bed once I screamed. I grabbed the sheets and wrapped it tighter around myself subconciously. Holy shit! I had to do a double-take to make sure this was actually _happening_.

I tried to bring the facts together.

1. Woke up in hotel room. **Check.**

2. Major hangover. **Check.**

3. In a bed with a stranger. **Check.**

4. No memory whatsoever of what happened last night. **Check.**

I sat there for a few moments, deliberating the mental notes inside my head. And it all pointed to _one_ thing, that was the most reasonable answer. My eyes widened, and I couldn't control myself as I let out another, possibly ear-deafening, shriek.

"My GOD, you _RAPED _ME!"

The dark haired stranger staggered to his feet and half-expected to see him standing there in all his naked glory, but I was relieved to see he was wearing a pair of boxers. Sagging pretty low, might I add. On any other occassion, I'd be gawking at his well-defined, rippling muscles. But this was a rapist I was dealing with—not one to get too friendly with. I jumped away from the bed, bringing the sheets with me and still keeping it wrapped around myself securely.

"Stop shouting," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Your voice is _so annoying_."

This flared my anger and confusion.

"Don't change the subject you… you rapist you! If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the cops on your ass!"

"_What_? I didn't rape you."

Agitation flashed in his dark eyes.

"Why should I believe you!?" I retaliated sharply, loudly. "GET OUT OF HERE!" It seemed as if he was going to say something, but before he could even start off the first syllable, I was already launching anything I could at him. I reached for a book and hurled it at him furiously, a line of profanities escaping my lips. I reached for pillows, a book, a forgotten shoe—_hell,_ I threw the whole fucking nighstand! But due to my pathetically athletically-impaired physical features, they all missed their targets.

Terribly.

He stood rooted in place, an annoyed expression on his face. "Are you done?"

I looked around. There was nothing left.

I let out a loud, angry shout.

"GAAAAH!"

He sighed deeply. "_Look_, I didn't rape you. If I wanted to rape someone, I would've found someone _more _attractive."

My jaw dropped to the floor.

The nerve of this guy! Rapist or not, he was an asshole.

"WHAT!? You basta—"

"Don't you know who I am?" he asked, a condescending tone in his voice. He crossed his arms over his bare chest that I was too busy too look at.

"No," I spat.

The annoyed look on his face turned into one of surprise. "Really?"

"Hmph, am I supposed to know? Are you some serial killer who kidnaps vulnerable women?" I inquired.

"…I'm Sasuke Uchiha."

"I don't give a rat's ass who—OH MY GOD!"

I was oblivious to the smirk that found it's way onto his face as his name processed in my mind. This was _Sasuke Uchiha._ _The_ Sasuke Uchiha. The famous, internationally popular, multi-talented, most sought after actor in the whole moving business. I'd seen a couple of his films and, as much as I wouldn't admit it aloud right now, I loved all of them. How could I have not known it was him? As the shock settled in, realization took it's place. I could feel my cheeks grow hot and embarassment wash over me.

_Oh my god, I think I just blew up in front of Sasuke Uchiha._

"I—I'm sorry," I apologized lamely. "I was just a little… upset."

"Really. I didn't notice."

I resisted the urge to strangle him and scoffed. "Whatever."

It was silent for a while. The soft hum of the air conditioner could be heard, as well as the silent _swoosh_ of cars that passed by outside.

"So…" I decided to break the ice. "What… What should we do now?"

He wasn't able to even open his mouth to respond when I heard something vibrate. He held up a finger, as if to say: _One minute_, and took out a very expensive looking cell phone. He brought it up to his ear, and I began to thoroughly observe him for the first time since I woke up. Sasuke didn't look as different as I'd thought in real life. He was exactly the same. Pale complexion, contrasting dark hair and piercing black orbs. The only thing that was different was the supposed "charm" the public gave him.

_He_ was actually an insolent, _pig-headed _jerk.

I was able to catch the conversation—he didn't exactly bother to lower his tone.

"Kakashi," he greeted stiffly, along with a soft breath. "Yes, I'm fine. No, idiot, I'm not dead." Sasuke sighed again, "Yes, I'm aware of that. But I'm kind of in a little… messy predicament." He glanced over at me and I narrowed my eyes. So, I was a messy predicament? I looked away and busied myself in trying to collect all of my clothing. "Yeah. Well, erm, I kinda… you remember that club I said I was going to last night? Yes, well, I kinda brought a girl back into the hotel room…"

I looked over at the silence, and absolute horror crossed his face.

I continued to listen, intrigued, as I found my pink lace bra.

But as I reached down, something shiny on my finger caught my attention…

"…That's _disgusting_, PEVERT." Sasuke grounded out, though his cheeks were pink in a light blush. "What should I do?" There was a pause. "Just leave her? Hm. Okay. Yeah, yeah. Bye."

Sasuke hung up, and I could tell he was looking in my direction. But I stood, eyes wide, distracted by something… _bigger_. I stared down at my hand, disbelief written all over my face. I even think my face was drained of all color. His aura practically radiated irritation, but it sooned died away and was replaced with an intrigued, raised brow.

"What the hell's your problem?"

"L—Let me see your hand," I demanded calmly, firmly.

"Why?" he asked, skepticisim dripping from his one-word question.

"SHUT UP, and give it to me."

He mumbled something about women and reluctantly held a limp hand in my face.

My breath hitched in my throat.

Just as I had suspected.

Sasuke was getting impatient. "Wha…" The question died in his throat as he looked down at his own hand. He had to blink a couple of times, and I suspected he was in as much denial as I was. I could've sworn that his skin paled ten shades lighter than it already was—he seemed so sickly, as if he were to pass out. I held up my hand next to his, and compared the rings that lay on our fingers. His was simple, silver band, roughly two centimeters in width.

But mine… I choked up just looking at it.

It was a silver band like Sasuke's, but mine had a huge—and I mean _huge_—rock sitting on top of it. It glittered beautifully as I held it up into the sunlight; it was like marriage rings that I'd see in the movies, or in cartoons. It was beautiful. But despite it's beauty, I couldn't help but feel utter dread pass through my veins. Did this mean—? Was I—? Am I really—? Are Sasuke and I really married? I was getting a little dizzy, and I plopped onto the bed, disbelief still apparent on my face.

I believed Sasuke was in the same boat as I was.

"I don't even _want_ toknow how much that thing cost me…"

Or not.

I glanced at him sharply. "Of all things going on right now, you're worried about how much a dinky little _ring _cost a millionaire like _you_?"

"I don't like to waste money," he replied in a crisp voice.

_Stingy, stingy._

"I don't remember getting married," I stated plainly, looking at the wall ahead of me, deep in thought.

"Neither do I."

There was an awkward silence, but he broke it.

"So… what's your name?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes, and I could feel the frustration creeping up my throat once more. "What. Is. Your. Name?" He spoke so slowly, as if I was a deranged child or something. "Since you're my 'wife' now, I believe I have the right to know… just in case people ask." I contemplated for a moment, before nodding, the annoyance gradually fading away. He _did_ have a point. He was a star; all paparazzi probably had a picture of them from last night. In fact, there was a big chance he'd get ambushed outside by the public.

"I'm Sakura Haruno."

He gave a nod. "And you already know who _I_ am."

I decided to ignore the cocky edge in his voice. "So, what do we do now?" I repeated my unanswered question.

Sasuke sighed heavily, as if this was his mid-life crisis at age twenty-one, or something. I itched to just roll my eyes at him, but listened to what the jerk had to say. "My manager insisted that I just leave you here. But with this new information," he pointed to the rings, "I believe leaving would be harder than expected. You'll have to come home with me, _unfortunately_." The corner of my mouth twitched dangerously as I caught the last part. He looked at me with hard, dark eyes.

"Get your clothes, then we're leaving," he instructed in a voice full of authority.

I looked him up and down and noticed that he was already dressed in his wrinkled clothing. Wow, I hadn't even noticed he put them on.

_Geez, actors. So spoiled, so demanding._

"Yeah, yeah…" I mumbled, bringing my top from last night off of the floor and onto the bed. I suddenly blushed, realizing he was staring at me. "Do you mind!?" I yelled, though more out of shyness than anger. He raised a brow, though I could still tell he was annoyed.

"Why?"

"Are you that dense?" I sighed. "I need you to turn around. I can't change with you _watching _me."

Sasuke rolled his eyes, before doing as told.

As I put on my white tank top, I couldn't help but think of the irony of this situation. We'd been drunk last night and we clearly did—erm, _it_—so he'd probably already seen me naked. And here I was, too afraid to put _on_ my clothes in front of him. My ears grew hot once more at the thought of him seeing my body. Although I couldn't remember anything—I was practically certain he had a body of the gods or whatever—flawless, perfect, everything.

Despite his arrogant attitude, he was beautiful, I had to admit.

And soon, I found myself practically drooling thinking about his well-toned body.

His voice brought me out of my fantasies and made me thoroughly embarrassed at my own thoughts.

"Are you done yet?" The tone was impatient.

"Yea—Yeah, I'm done," I replied hastily, fastening the silver button of my black shorts.

He looked at me, interested, before shaking his head. "Let's go."

After leaving a hefty tip to whoever cleaned the—uh, _partially _destroyed—room, we took the elevator down towards the Lobby. I couldn't believe the sudden change of the atmosphere when we exited the elevators. Everyone seemed to know Sasuke. The bell hops, maids and people behind the counters smiled creepily and spoke with fabricated voices. Everyone stopped and asked for autographs and pictures, but Sasuke turned them down in a voice that was familiar to me; the kind he displayed on television and on interviews.

I snorted inwardly as his politeness. If only they knew how infuriating he could be!

I could already _see_ the paparazzi waiting outside the lobby doors, looking like hungry lions about to feed on some weak, innocent gazelle.

_Oh, sweet Jesus._

I gulped visibly.

An arm was wrapped around my waist and I stiffened. I looked up and Sasuke, glaring intensely, but he merely pulled me closer to his side. I couldn't help it—reaching for his arm, I grabbed some skin and twisted it painfully. I knew it'd hurt—I pinched Naruto like that all the time, and he normally ended up bawling in the corner of the room, or be so surprised that he'd trip over anything, even if it were his own two feet. But it didn't have that much of an effect on Sasuke.

He winced, then hissed, "What the hell are you doing!?"

"Me!?" I sneered, "What are _you _doing?" I gestured towards the offending arm and the unfaltering grip.

"We have to make this whole marriage thing seem believable," he replied, exasperation behind his angry tone. "Those reporters are out there, waiting to rip us to shreds." At this, I gulped, and I'm pretty sure he noticed, but he continued anyways. "Don't speak unless spoken to. I don't want you saying anything that'll ruin my public image," he muttered.

"Fine, sure, whatever," I snorted.

My headache was coming back, and I just wanted somewhere to lay down.

_I hope it won't be too bad…_

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Unfortunately, it was bad. Worse that I'd even imagined.

The moment I stepped out of the hotel's revolving doors, I was greeted with a million flashes, nearly blinding me. All I could see for a full five seconds were bright, white lights and different colored spots in the air. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what people who were on heroine saw when they were completely wasted. There was noisy chatter and a constant flash—_no,_ definitely not helping my ear-splitting, possibly life-threatening headache. I nearly wanted to hurl. I groaned loudly, unconciously gripping the arm that was on my waist.

And _that's _when they started asking questions about me.

"Mr. Uchiha, who's that!?" one practically screamed, making me stumble slightly.

**FLASH!**

"Is she a relative?"

**FLASH!**

"Is she a fan girl, or something more!?"

**FLASH! FLASH!**

If one more goddamn camera goes off, I swear, I'm gonna shove it up the guy's ass!

The questions just kept on coming—whether Sasuke answered them or not. They wanted something; something juice to dish out to the rest of the world. Yeah, I had something to say at the world at that moment: "_Fuck off!_" But I kept my mouth shut. Partially because I was extremely uncomfortably, and partically because I told Sasuke I wouldn't. And I was a woman of my word—well, most of the time, that is. I tried a smile everytime someone looked my way, but it just didn't come out right.

I sighed and rubbed my aching temples.

"Look!" One yelled, "She has a ring on her finger!"

The crowd erupted into louder murmurs and the buzz made me want to rip my eyebrows off.

"When did you get married?"

"Did you already have the honey moon, Mr. Uchiha?"

**FLASH!**

_Goddamnit,_ if I _ever_ find out who—

"Mrs. Uchiha," A reporter caught my attention, "How did you and Sasuke meet?"

I winced at the title. Oh _god_. I did not want to be known as 'Mrs. Uchiha'.

I looked over at Sasuke, begging for him to save me. A fleeting smirk crossed his lips and he settled the crowd with a raised hand, although it still didn't stop them from taking pictures. He looked out at them and started to speak. He smiled ravishingly, making most of the women swoon and giggle. I wanted to gag, but I merely snorted. I'm pretty sure he heard it, but just decided to ignore me for the sake of not blowing up on the cameras.

"My lovely Sakura—" Insert barf. "—and I got married two days ago, privately," he explained and they all bought it, furiously jotting it down in their little note pads. "She loves me very much, and I love her as well. Though, she's a little tired from last night." My eyes narrowed. Was that _supposed _to come out sexual? "So, we must be leaving—"

"Let's see a little kiss between the two newlyweds!"

And I wanted to kill the man who'd shouted that out. I tensed, my body becoming cardboard stiff. Sasuke, however, being the_ oh so _charming one, showed no sign of stress.

Before I could comprehend anything, he'd brought his face to mine and we were locked in a breathless kiss. If it were soft and light—maybe I wouldn't be so surprised. But _no_. This was a full on make out session, as if he were some testosterone enhanced teenage boy. I knew we were pretending—but _goddamn_, he was a _good _kisser. I nearly melted in his touch. Before I could lose myself within his touch, I pinched him in the exact same place I had before.

He pulled away abruptly, and he glared, clearly saying: 'I-will-have-no-problem-in-going-to-jail-for-killing-my-alleged-wife'.

The reporters didn't seem to notice the tension as they cheered on the 'happy newlyweds'.

I tried to make a run for it right now, but Sasuke's arm was still held tightly around me, and I had no choice but to hang limply against him, like some rag doll taped to the side of his butt. (Well, at his side, but you get the point) I crossed my arms over my chest—rather childish, but who the hell cares?—and glared at him, my lips curving into a pout.

He smiled smoothly to the crowd, waving once more as we walked to a limo that had conveniently pulled up at the side of the curb.

"If you excuse us, we must be going now…"

We walked down the steps from the hotel entrance and he literally glided across the sidewalk towards the limo, while I stumbled a little to keep up. Seriously, how did he have such grace, yet be such an asshole? Surprisingly, he opened the door for me. I gave a curt nod, knowing damn full well he was trying to please the crowd. He noticed my sharp eyes and glared for a moment, before turning to the others and smiling.

I rolled my eyes and sat as far as I could from Sasuke's seat.

"Thank you everyone, good day."

I cringed as I heard the shutters of the camera go off, and I was reminded of my mind numbing headache. I closed my eyes tightly, leaning my forehead against the cool of the glass window.

Ugh… I'm going to die…

The door closed and I felt a sudden weight beside me.

"Damn, I hate those people," I caught him murmur underneath his breath.

"It must suck having to deal with them," I said, smirking humorlessly, eyes still closed.

"…Yeah."

His voice told me he was shocked. I hope didn't think I forgave him for the whole predicament—oh no, far from it. Hangovers just made me have even stranger mood swings than usual. Ranging anywhere from vulnerable, shiny-eyed depressed school girl to borderline, 'I'm-gonna-kill-your-babies' pissed off. It was silent for a while, and I opened my eyes to just squint to look out the window. We were already a few blocks away from the hotel, and I let out a sigh of relief.

My headache was dying away, though still there, and all that was bothering me now was my tired body.

I let my head fall back against the head of my chair and closed my eyes.

I could tell Sasuke was watching me, but I really didn't feel like talking right now.

I just wanted to catch up on lost sleep…

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"Wake up."

I felt someone shaking me awake from my dreamless nap. My eyebrows knit together tightly as I swatted away the offender, already knowing who it was.

"_Noo_," I whined. "I don't _wa—nna_ go."

There was an irritated huff.

"Sakura, just get your ass out of the limo. We're here."

I opened my eyes, the sleepiness still clinging to my senses. I glared at Sasuke through angry, sleepy eyes and he just rolled his eyes, slipping out of the car. I followed him, fumbling with the door handle and nearly tripping over the small bump in the car as I stepped out. Sasuke seemed annoyed by my clumsiness, but I just ignored him. As I looked up to observe the house, I bit my tongue from letting out a sharp gasp. I couldn't even _call _this house.

It was like a _mansion_.

It seemed straight out of the movies, with the perfect clean-cut grass and a brick path that winded up to the front steps.

Various colors of flowers lined the pathway, inhabiting different kinds of insects, mostly butterflies. The trees were large and had sturdy trunks, along with green, soft canopies hanging lazily upon the branches. The pathway led up to a small brick courtyard, complimented with a large fountain of two angels holding bowls with crystal clear water trickling out of them. The house was humongous itself, with large Roman pillars and two white, glass double doors with curved golden handles.

His property was blocked away from the rest of the word with iron bars, and as I stood there, mouth agape, I finally realized that he _was_ Sasuke Uchiha and he _was _rich and famous.

"Are you coming anytime this century?" he asked in annoyance.

I glared. "Shut up! I was going to compliment on your home, but since you're such a butt-face, I'm not," I huffed.

He looked exasperated, as if to say: _As if I give a shit_.

I bristled and wanted to say something else, but he already started to walk away.

"Just hurry up."

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**to be continued**

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**A/N:** Waaah, hope it wasn't too unbearable. D: Well, it has been a while since I've written anything,

so—just don't be too critical? Eh, I guess I can't control what you post. But! I hope you've enjoyed it. I'm

really looking forward to any kind of feedback, really. Good, bad, bleh. I wonder if I forgot anything. Oh

well. I hate making author's notes too long. It's bad habit o' mine. D;

Revoo's make me hapii 8D

— **puffy clouds**


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